


Why Don't You And I Get Together And Take On The World And Be Together Forever

by Alltheshrinks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, First Time, Gay Sex, M/M, Pining, Pre-Stanford, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23936104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alltheshrinks/pseuds/Alltheshrinks
Summary: When John leaves the boys to their own devices... will they fall apart or be the thing that holds each other together?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Sam/Dean
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

"Take care of it!" John Winchester's voice rose several decibels but lowered several octaves at the same time, if that was possible, in the earpiece of the phone. Taking in a shallow breath, Twenty-one year-old, Dean Winchester, calmed himself. "Yes, Sir." "Good, now I will come as soon as I can. I'm counting on you, Dean. Take care of Sammy, and hold down the fort till I get back!" And before Dean could respond, he heard the connection sever and knew his father had hung up. Laying the receiver down and pressing his back on the door, Dean let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding and took stock of his situation. Dean's hunter father, John, had left town 3 months ago to track a coven of witches, that seemed to be eluding him at every turn. He had only returned home to bring Dean food and rent money once and now that was almost gone. And normally Dean could fend for himself. He could hustle pool, or poker, he was good at just about any type of means at procuring cash, as long as It was shady. The only problem was that their father had dropped the boys off in a Podunk town, that was not only dry, but with such a low population that a school, couple of gas stations and restaurants was all that was required. So not only did Dean not have illegal way to earn cash, a legal one was doubtful. Glancing down at his wrist watch, he noticed that his brother, Sam, should be getting in from school at any moment. Sam, the Seventeen-Year-old, " little" brother that was starting to challenge the term, had recently taken a growth spurt and shot up to Dean's height and beyond. Dean figured that it had to do with the fact that he was constantly eating now. And not just that health food crap, Sam was starting to very nearly, "eat them out of house and home." Which wasn't that big of a deal, but he was also growing so quickly that he had outgrown his pants, and Dean's pants that he had started wearing until Dean could figure a way to buy him more. And with this school year, Sam had schedule fees, book fees, Math Club dues and lunch money. He would never understand why his little brother had to be so smart and actually want to be "normal." School had bored Dean, and when he became of legal age, and cheerleaders were not, he had decided that he could be more useful to his little brother getting a GED and working, than going through the motions of high school. A rumble in Dean's stomach snapped him back to himself and he placed the palm of his right hand to his stomach. When felt his hip bone that had recently started jutting out, feeling even more pronounced, he absent-mindedly took up another notch on his belt. He was losing weight, which it wasn't the first time that Dean has lost weight, it was a more significant amount. And Dean never even thought twice about it, because at the end of the day, Sam was all that mattered. He was all that had mattered, since that night 17 years ago, when John had placed baby Sam in Dean's arms and told him to, "take your brother outside, as fast as you can! Now, Dean! Go!!" He sighed and walked into the kitchen, already knowing the contents of the small apartment's refrigerator and cabinets. He grabbed the handle, opening the 1950s era, yellowing Fridgidaire, and confirmed his knowledge. A cupful of milk in the gallon of milk, two Cokes, one bottle each of ketchup and mustard. He shut the door and looking in the cabinet on his right, he found a box of Lucky Charms, with one bowlful left, a can of Campbell's Tomato Rice Soup, and three very large containers of salt. The cabinet on the left, wasn't much better. It contained a jar of Jiffy peanut butter and half a loaf of bread. Picking up the loaf of bread, he counted the slices and did the math in his head: Eight slices, not counting the heels, which Sam wouldn't eat. If he fixed the soup and two sandwiches, he could possibly feed Sam tonight. But in the morning, he would be out of food. Dean took out his wallet, that had a chain onto his back pocket and he chuckled. If he lost it, or someone tried to steal it, it wouldn't matter much. It wasn't exactly worth much: the leather, $13, and two Trojan Condoms, that seemed to be taunting him. There wasn't much here in the way of female companionship, and until he sorted out situation, he wasn't feeling very amorous anyway. He grabbed his dad's leather jacket off of the back of one of the chairs, and put it on. The jacket swallowed him, even more than it did when he had taken to wearing it, but it was warm and it made him look cool. Which somewhere in the back of his mind, Dean knew was oxymoron. He took the small keychain out of his pocket and decided to remedy the food situation, if just for a day. He opened the door and popping the collar on his jacket against the cold, started down the steps of the small apartment that sat above the garage and small gas station. The lights were all dark and the place was deserted. Wallace's was closed and had been, since the elderly gentleman had died from a heart attack two and a half months ago. His wife, Ruth, who had ran the small motel, had noticed that John was gone and insisted that Dean and Sam move into a bigger space. It was old, and only semi furnished, but it was so much better than the no tell motel room had been. She had taken an instant liking to both boys, citing that they reminded her of her long grown sons and refused rent until John returned. Dean wondered if she would help him out of his current predicament and quickly decided that allowing the boys shelter was enough. He was a man, taking care of this was his job. His pride just wouldn't allow him to take the charity of others. When he hit the bottom step, he noticed his rapidly growing brother, sitting on the park bench in front of him. The bench faced the other way and Dean noticed that Sam was in desperate need of a haircut, it was curling up and over his ears. Snickering, he realized that Sam almost looked like a girl from behind. His brown hooded jacket swallowed his brother whole, making him seem small, fragile. Smiling to himself, he crouched down, deciding to give his preoccupied sibling a scare. As he crept closer, he realized that Sam's bad was at his feet and the gangly teenager was absorbed in his homework. Grabbing him in a chokehold, with the bench as leverage, Dean twisted Sam's left arm around behind his back. After a startled gasp, Sam stopped resisting and relaxed against the hold. "Dean!" It wasn't a question. "Deeann," he tried again, stretching out his brother's name into an explicative. "If you don't let me go..." Dean noticed there was a ballpoint pin in Sam's right hand and let out a loud laugh. "You'll what? Write me a mean letter?" Grinning from ear to ear at the cleverness of his remark, Dean let Sam go, and laughed harder. "Are you going to 'pen' me down?" Sam's bitchface was as 100% as he watched the older boy roar out and his full body laugh erupt as he continued. "Please don't paper cut me!" But when the paper on Sam's lap came into view, Dean's laughter stopped. It was a scholarship application and his brother's presence on the park bench made sense. "What's this?" Snatching it up, shoving Sam's protesting arms back as he turn the paper to read it. He let out a low whistle and said, "Stanford, huh?" "My Guidance Councilor is making the whole senior class fill them out." Sam said, snatching it back from his brother, easily. "I'll never get in, little alone a scholarship." Dean quickly became stoic, his poker face had slipped but he quickly feigned indifference and shrugged. "Alright, Sammy. I'm going for some dinner, finish that inside. It's getting cold." Turning on his heel, he grabbed the handle of the Impala's door, and plopped down in the driver's seat. He placed the keys into the ignition, and his beloved '67 Chevy rumbled to life. He eased the gearshift into drive and didn't give Sam another glance, before he pulled out on the road. Dean knew his brother wanted normal. He craved a life that wasn't in the cards for hunters, not to mention Winchesters, but Dean was holding out hope that his big brained, sissy of a brother would never leave him. Sam and John fought constantly, but Dean didn't think Sammy could do that him. Driving the 3/4 of a mile down the street, Dean saw something that gave him a little hope. The sign up ahead for the local McDonald's stated that 'cheeseburgers $.25 M-F till 5.' Doing the calculations in his head, he cut the wheel and eased into the parking lot. Deciding against the drive thru, he turned into a parking spot and killed the engine. And for the first time in several days, Dean Winchester actually relaxed. If he didn't know anything else, he knew that they would be okay for a few more days, because a 'Help Wanted' sign, started him in the face. Five minutes later, he was handing in the application and taking out his wallet to order. Behind the very young girl behind the counter, he heard a male voice ask, "Are you Dean?" "Yes," he looked over to see a slightly balding man with an all white uniform shirt, holding a slip of paper. The man walked from around the counter and held out his hand. Dean took a firm grip on it, looked him square in the eye, and shook. "I'm Steve Billings, this is my McDonalds. Have you ever worked fast food, Dean?" In all honesty, Dean hadn't. But he was not going to let that stop him. He needed this job and how hard could it be. "Yes, Mr Billings." Turning on his charm, Dean flashed a wide smile, and lied through it! "I worked two summers at a small dairy freeze in Lawrence, KS." "I noticed you didn't list a number. Is it still there?" The older man asked, scanning further down the application. Before Dean could created a story or even give out Bobby's number, Steve spoke again, "I see that you know Ruth Taylor." Sighing to himself in relief, Dean nodded. "Yes, Sir. We are staying in her apartment that sits above the station. Our dad's away on business and she insisted. I just couldn't tell her no." Steve seemed to consider this for a moment. "Can you start tomorrow? I really need someone for the Breakfast and Lunch shift. Maybe a few evenings. Would you be available for that?" "Yes sir, I can work whatever shift you need. You just let me know." "The weekend shifts and most of the evening shifts are filled with school kids. But I lost 4 people to the Nissan Plant that opened up a county over. I hated to see them go, but I can't compete with their wages. But I like your enthusiasm, so I'll see you at 7:00?" Dean nodded. "7:00." Walking into the apartment, McDonald's bag in hand, Dean decided that he couldn't tell Sam that he was getting a job at McDonalds. It wasn't that Dean was ashamed of honest work or even flipping burgers. He had been lying to Sam about John sending money. And the tentative peace that existed between his father and brother was extremely fragile. He decided to lie. "Sammy!" Calling out into the living room, he peeled off his jacket and tossed his brother the bag. "Soup's on." "How many burgers did you get?" Sam asked as he gauged the weight of the bag. "Sixteen. They were 4 for $1.00. I ate 8, there's 8 left. Do you think that's enough?" He raised his eyebrows teasingly. "Enough for what? To give me a stroke? High Cholesterol?" Sam smiled. Dean could eat Cheeseburgers 3 meals a day. But from the way Sam's appetite had increased, he really wasn't complaining. 6:00 the next morning, Dean showered and got dressed. He woke up Sam, shaking his brother's shoulder. "Sammy, get up! Rise and Shine!!! Sam? Wake up Sleeping Beauty. Are you awake? Sammy, get up. You have to catch the bus, I've got an errand to run." Once his brother was vertical and headed to the shower, Dean grabbed his coat and was out the door. 7:30 found Dean despising the popular food chain. He was only training, but there was so much to remember. And the morning rush had started, and he had been ostracized to the dishwasher. Steve had promised that after breakfast, he would get more training, but for the time being he was elbow deep in water as he rinsed The large pots and trays before placing them in huge dishwasher. You could fit a body in that thing, and Dean mind trailed off to Monsters and a mental grocery list. By 11:30, his stomach was rumbling as Steve had snapped Dean out of his thought. "You did a good job, Dean. Ready to learn something else?" "Yes, Sir!" He nodded, rinsing his hands and drying them with the large paper towels by the gigantic dishwasher.


	2. Chapter 2

The next several hours passed by without incident. Dean was a quick study and working the drive thru was not rocket surgery. He glanced at the clock and noticed that it was nearly 3. Sammy would be getting out of school and his day was nearly over. He had done it. He was making an honest living, his brother wasn't going to starve, and if he budgeted right, Sammy would be able to finish high school with decent clothes and normalcy. Walking towards the break room, hat in his hand, Dean felt a small surge of pride. One that he usually only felt when he had done something to make his dad proud or appease his baby brother. Slipping the flimsi card into the antiquated clock, he punched out and headed towards the bathroom. He had to change, and while a shower would be welcomed, that would have to wait, he needed to get home.   
After he had changed and repaired his "hat hair", Dean slipped on his leather jacket and made his way to the front. He passed Julie (whom he thought was very cute, but Steve's 17 year old daughter) and gave her that lopsided, devil may care grin. She had taken his application the night before and he learned that she was currently attending the nearby community college. He had to fight his strong animalistic urge to flirt or feed her a classic line. He wasn't about to jeopardize his job or Sammy's wellbeing by propositioning an underage girl, especially one that was related to his boss.  
"Heading out?" Julie smiled. Her long brown hair was tied up in a neat bun and she had brown eyes that gleamed in the terrible lighting.   
Pursing his lips and giving her a wink, Dean casually replied, "Yep." Slightly popping the 'p' in the word. Just because he couldn't get involved didn't mean that he couldn't be friendly. Dean knew that he was attractive to the opposite sex. He had known from an early age that females (and even some males, much to his chagrin) responded in a favorable way to him. John knew it as well. There were many times that his dad had used him as 'bait' or a 'lure' or even as a distraction. After several years of feeling dirty for being offered up on a platter, he had learned that it was nothing to be ashamed of and could serve his own purposes.  
"So, enjoy your first day?" Julie questioned, snapping Dean out of his thoughts.  
"It wasn't bad. Some of the scenery is nice." Wagging an eyebrow and giving her another sincere smile.  
"Right. See you tomorrow." Julie responded and gave him a smile of her own. Clearly, Julie knew this game as well. She was attractive and confident, but not over the top. Dean respected that. She turned back to the counter as Dean approached the door.  
"By the way, Dean?" He heard Julie say when he was almost outside. He turned to look at her. "You didn't eat today and only drank water. You are allowed 2 meals on an 8 hour shift."  
The habit of not eating had already become the norm and Dean hadn't given a second thought to food. His current mind set was one track- taking care of Sammy. "In all the excitement, guess I wasn't hungry." His nonchalant façade slipping for a second. He was hungry.  
"I can bag you something up, if you want. And you can take some to your brother." Her face was one of sympathy and he knew that she knew. After all, she was here last night when he ordered 16 burgers.  
Dean's pride kicked in. He wasn't about to take a handout and hated the look of pity on a kid that wasn't even old enough to vote. "That's ok. Not really hungry."  
"I bet your brother will be. And we are going to throw them away in a few minutes." She shrugged, leaving Dean to think about feeding the human Shop Vac, who Hoovered through every edible thing that he crossed paths with.  
"Yeah," he sighed in defeat. "He's a growing boy!" With that, Julie handed him a bag that was already full. She didn't say a word and went back to her task of wiping down trays and replacing the paper placemats. It was gesture that Dean was grateful for. He could hang onto his pride, feed his brother, and feed himself. This was going to work out.  
  
Parking the Impala close to the curb in front of the desolate service station, Dean hoped he had beat Sam home. He climbed out, grabbed his cheeseburgers and started up the steps. Putting his key in the door lock, Dean distinctively heard voices. His muscles tensed and hand flew to the gun in the back of his jeans. Almost as soon as the feeling came, it left, as Dean realized absentmindedly, that it was only the TV. He opened the door and heard the familiar laugh track of a terrible show, in syndication, on an awful station.  
"Sammy?" He spoke, just loud enough to be heard over the television. "Sam?"  
"I'm right here." The voice came from his right as Dean noticed his baby brother seated at the small kitchen table. On closer inspection, Sam was crouched over a thick text book. The writing was a long string of numbers and letters that resembled something out of Star Trek or maybe Einstein's personal journal. "Where've you been?"  
"To get your dinner." Dean punctuated the statement by throwing the bag at him. Sam's lightning fast reflexes caught it inches from face. Noticing the bag, Sam groaned. "Cheeseburgers, again?"  
"Well, they are cheap and taste good. Besides, if you want Mathlete money, you'll shut up and eat them."  
"About that..." Sam started. He eyed his brother cautiously, gauging his mood before continuing. "We are starting practice before school. I need to be there 6:30."  
"Ok." Dean shrugged and replied. He couldn't believe his ears. He was actually going to be able to make this work.  
"Ok? Dean, you hate getting up early. 6:30 means that you'll have to drive me." Sam questioned his brother's motives. Dean was by no stretch of the imagination a morning person. Suspicion crept into Sam's mind as he leveled his gaze at his older brother.  
"Are you really going to argue about this, Sammy?" Dean gave him his best "hurt" expression.  
"'Course not." It was odd, but Sam was getting his way, so he let it go. "Have you eaten?" His eyes raked over his brother. Not for the first time he was a little worried about Dean's appearance, and after reading that Stephen King novel, he wondered if his brother was under a voodoo spell.  
"Me and cheeseburgers? Dude I ate so many I'm sick, " he grabbed his stomach and realized that he was not lying. Dean guessed that this was what it was like to be anorexic. He couldn't believe that people actually chose to be anorexic. Especially girls. He loved the opposite sex, no matter what size they were. They were soft and brought beauty to an otherwise hard and ugly world.  
"Right." Sam nodded and went back to his book. His brow wrinkled and a thoughtful expression overtook his features. Dean took this as his cue and silently left the room. He needed a shower and to sit down. He'd never actually admit it, but the standing and his obvious malnutrition had worn him out. Flipping burgers was not as easy as he thought.  
  
A couple of hours later found the brothers sitting on the old sofa, facing the small TV. A generic sitcom played and Dean only paid a tiny bit of attention to it. He wanted to be on a hunt. He loved the thrill of killing things, of saving people, and the occasional grateful women. But he also had a huge sense of accomplishment, his brother was safe. Not only was he safe, he was happy and thriving. Dean had achieved something that John Winchester never could; He had made sure Sam was protected and happy. That was a hat trick. And sitting in the comfortable silence, in the ambient light of a slightly staticky station, Dean decided life as a civilian wasn't bad at all.  
  
The next couple of weeks eased by, finding Dean actually happy. Sam was healthy and well fed, he hadn't complained about much, leaving Dean to focus on his own health. They still trained during afternoons and on weekends, but more often than not, they were just normal. The sparring that John insisted they do had taken on a brotherly feel. Dean imagined that wrestling with your kid brother was something that normal big brothers did. Granted they probably didn't fight as long or as hard as the Winchesters, but that was just a small detail. Nights found them sitting on the couch, laughing at sitcoms or arguing about football games. Dean could almost pretend that monsters didn't exist and that nothing hid in the shadows.  
"So, what's been up with you?" Sam broke the silence, his voice piercing the quiet room.  
"What do mean?" Dean's voice was guarded and he fought the anxiety rising in his chest.  
"Well, you actually seem content. You aren't itching for a hunt or fight. When was the last time you brought a girl home? I haven't heard you bellyache about anything these last few weeks." Sam smiled tentatively. He knew Dean. He knew his brother loved to drink, loved to brawl, and loved sex. And not just the act; he loved boasting and bragging and oversharing! The details of his conquest were a regular topic and the more vivid the detail, the better Dean liked it.  
"I don't know, Sammy. Who says I have to bring them home when your around? If you are at school, we can be as loud and raunchy as we like. And we don't have to confine ourselves to the bedroom!" Looking at Sam, Dean shifted his eyes down to the couch and back up to his brother's. Immediately picking up on his brother's innuendo, Sam let out a loud groan.  
"That's just wrong." Sam pushed himself up and off the tattered sofa. He crossed the few steps to the kitchen and plopped down at the table. "Too much information, dude!" Dean smiled wickedly and got a sinister idea.  
"About that..." His gaze landed on the table and Sam removed his elbows like it was a hot stove.  
"Really? The table? Oh my God!"  
"That's what she said!" Dean chuckled to himself, watching his brother's face turn flame red. Knowing that he was in a losing battle, Sam reluctantly stood and shook his head.  
"I'm heading to bed. I have two chapters of Walden left for tomorrow." He grabbed the book out of his bag and turned down the hall.   
"Sam? You might want to change the bedding!" He gave his brother a thoughtful look and a split second later, Sam had let out a disgusted sigh.  
"Dude? Why?" His voice raising and becoming irritated. "Not enough other surfaces to desecrate? You had to ruin my bed? I'm sleeping in the car." He started to grab his jacket on the back of the chair. Instead of just coming clean and confessing that no one other than Mrs. Taylor had been in the apartment and that he certainly hadn't hit that, Dean decided on another tactic.  
"Car's not safe either, little brother." And gave his brother a smirk and eyebrow wag that said, 'if ya know what I mean!'  
Dejectedly, Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. He forced the images out of his head and knew that he would regret his next question. "Is there anywhere at all that you haven't 'christened' ." He used air quotes around the word.  
Dean thought for a moment. "Not inside." Seeing the pained expression on Sam's face, he followed with, "hey, you asked!" Knowing that this course of action would keep the younger Winchester out of his business for a while, Dean settled back down on the couch. He gave himself a mental pat on the back and took a long sip of his beer. It was almost too easy.


End file.
